


Deranged insanity and its consequences

by spoky



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9985544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoky/pseuds/spoky
Summary: DISCLAIMER: This story is RPF, meaning that I use the star image of real people to tell a completely fictional story. It's not meant to offend or insult anyone. Please do not share my fiction with the people I write about on social media or otherwise. Thank you. (For full disclaimer, please see my profile.)In Tumblr @artificialqueens someone sent a prompt: 'Santino x Lil' Pound Cake' and my fucked up brain produced this. It srsl would've never occurred to me without, so I blame the prompt, entirely.





	

**[ September 15, 2016 ]**  
  
Santino stared at the screen in a mixture of outrage and disbelief. How did that motherfucking, gender-bending, cock-sucking, pillow-biting ladyboy fucking dare? On fucking television!  
  
He grabbed the first thing he could reach, which unfortunately happened to be a wine glass, and threw it at the wall in absolute rage, breaking it into hundreds of tiny sparkles that raced in multiple different directions on his living room floor. He was breathing heavily and glanced back at the screen. This was humiliating and totally fucking unacceptable! He marched into the hallway and grabbed his car keys. He was going to fucking murder that queen.

 

**[ June 15, 2012 ]**

The term ‘fucked-up’ belongs to the category of ‘offensive slang’. At least in accordance with most online dictionaries. Typically the term is used to describe a situation that is mentally, morally, physically, aesthetically or even theoretically flawed in some way. The term has certain variance to it. Something can be ‘slightly’ fucked up or ‘royally’ fucked up, depending on the clarity of the flaw.

This situation was more on the ‘royally’ side of fucked-up and Santino was aware of it.  
  
He’d woken up horny that specific morning and glanced at the time, realising he was running late. So he had gotten ready for work, still horny. He’d driven to work, horny. He had stared at the season 5 queens the entire day, horny. He had joked with Michelle that he really needed to get laid and Michelle had asked whether there ever was a day when he didn’t feel like that. To which he had laughed that yes, but at this very moment he did not know whether that was true. He was just horny.  
  
The mini challenge had been filmed and they were on their 30 minute lunch break when Santino had decided that enough was enough. He would take care of the problem, so that he could concentrate on judging during the main challenge. The toilet was out of the question as most of the crew and staff would be going in and out during the break. What he could do, however, was to use the storage room reserved for accessories.

The situation was royally fucked-up and he knew it.  
  
He sneaked into the room and pushed the cart still containing the pile of puppets the queens had created for the mini-challenge further into the room.

Now, Santino had no specific fetishes about puppets per se, but the way in which Lil Pound Cake’s dress was tangled up her waist and the way in which her pink panties were showing because of it, it reminded Santino of a very fond memory of his from the not so distant past.

He’d been in a photoshoot and the little horny twink of a model had caught his eye. The boy was pale and wore a pair of light pink panties for the shoot. On the break the model had demonstrated in great detail how talented his tongue was and how eagerly he’d work, if it would contribute to his career. Santino had made empty promises and the light pink panties still haunted his dreams -- almost as a revenge. 

He stuffed his hand into his pants and fiddled with the fabric of Lil’ Pound Cake’s panties. He returned to the memories of the boy’s tongue and mouth, how enthusiastically he had taken Santino into his mouth and sucked his cock. The boy’s makeup had been ruined by Santino’s hands and Santino’s cock had been covered with the boy’s lipstick.

He reached to touch Lil’ Pound Cake’s makeup and recollected the way the boy had fondled with his balls. He wiped some of Lil’ Pound Cake’s lipstick onto his cock, just as a visual aid of the boy’s lips and mouth. 

‘You want help with that?’

Santino jerked back from the doll and covered himself as he turned to look at the intruder. Alaska.

The men stared at each other for a while in thick silence. Then Alaska grinned and shrugged. 

‘I guess not,’ she drawled, eyeing in between Lil’ Pound Cake and Santino.

Santino could tell she was drawing all the wrong conclusions. Fuck.

‘Kinky,’ Alaska noted, smirking. Santino swore quietly under his breath.

‘I just came to get my stuff,’ Alaska explained and pushed the door open behind her, taking a step back. ‘But I’ll just do that later,’ she continued grinning and as she left the room Santino could hear a bright, sing-songy ‘Enjoy~!’.

Fuck.

 

 **[September 15, 2016]**  
  
  
She grinned at the reflection in the mirror. Yes, perfect. Absolutely perfect. Her pink dress, golden bird’s nest wig and extravagant makeup were ready to be torn into pieces; ready to be re-worked into an incomprehensible mess. She was not a patient queen by nature, but when the call had come for All Stars 2, she had known immediately how to take advantage of the situation. How to advertise her album and how to drive a certain someone to the brink of insanity, possibly so that she could enjoy the benefits of that mental breakdown.

There was an angry knock.  
  
She smirked and bounced to the door, ready for an attack of any kind. She had worn an armour for a purpose. She opened the door, grinning and was not surprised at the volume.  
  
‘HOW FUCKING DARE YOU TO-’

She was surprised, however, how little time it took for Santino to realise that instead of Justin Honard, or Alaska Thunderfuck for that matter, he was staring into the bright blue eyes of Lil’ Pound Cake.

‘Something wrong, sir?’ she asked, leaning to the doorframe, looking at Santino as if she couldn’t have cared less that he existed.

Santino blinked and then it clicked. That motherfucking, gender-bending, cock-sucking, pillow-biting ladyboy wanted to fuck. 

‘I’m going to fucking murder your ass,’ he threatened as he grabbed her slender arm and pushed her rougly back into the apartment.

The door slammed shut.


End file.
